Lovely

I love my parents. Really. They are the only people that care about me as whole-heartedly as they could. I would love nothing more than to make them happy.

But I can’t.
My position does not make them happy ... everything down to my core as a person.

If I can’t make the basic building blocks of my life satisfied with me as a person, then no wonder why I have a demon in there telling me that I can’t ever be good enough.

My parents see me through the lenses of their fears, and I have made their skewed views of me part of who I am.

Ahhh. Future, here I come.